if we're going to be fwb, please just ghost me instead
reflections on the wildest mercury rx
What a wild, wild, wild week. Putting my pen on paper feels like fresh air, and I really don’t know where to begin, if I want to begin, or how to begin.
We are doing things a little differently today. I’m writing this in my journal before I type it out on Substack, because I am trying to avoid my screen for as long as possible. But I have to be honest - there is something so mentally and physically calming about hearing the pen hit the paper.
It’s a gloomy Sunday morning in Rome. Espresso beside us, of course. We’ll probably need 2 today, since thunderstorms kept us up until 4 am. I’m skipping breakfast because I haven’t grocery shopped in almost a week. On Friday night, my dinner was a sad salad and a few bites of ricotta.
“Is this what it feels to be a frat boy?” I asked myself as I ate my sad salad at the sink. Luckily, that salad was a snack and Aperol spritzes in a candlelit Roman ally became the main course - but more on Friday evening later.
Highlight of the Week
I bought a pair of handmade leather cowboy boots. Cowboy boots, a boyfriend blazer, and jean shorts is the Roman It Girl uniform. So obviously, yours truly has to hop on that, especially after a soap opera filled week. “The least you can do is buy yourself a pair of cowboy boots”, a friend tells me. And I could not agree more. Oh, and like I’ve been dissecting with everyone else - the Roman Man uniform: cuffed jeans, black vans, a tattooed sleeve, and earrings. I’ve also noticed a few pant chains, which, they are pulling off quite well (sadly).
I Will Only Casually Hook Up With You if I Hate You, Or Else I’m Falling in Love
Oh, my friends. This Mercury Rx. Without a doubt, one of the most chaotic astrological events I have ever experienced in my life. What started off as the usual - my debit card being compromised, forgetting my passwords, train strikes, having to get my blonde highlights redone, a few squabbles here and there - turned into reconnecting with family members. Resolving past issues. Prioritizing peace, accepting people for who they are, and moving forward. Which, thank you Mercury, because sometimes the only way to move forward is to work on healing our past.
And speaking of healing our past, a Sunday newsletter would not be complete without a past lover popping in. And unfortunately, the ones that have done the most hurt and damage to us can never exit out quite smoothly.
Now, are we going to put all of the catastrophic blame on him? Absolutely not - this coming from the girl who has made it her life mission to be the one who got away.
I have written down many musings and learnings from this week, one being - those with their Venus placement in Taurus (Kanye West + yours truly), always feel entitled to the attention and affection from those of their past. Wish I couldn’t relate.
Is it an ego thing? Or a connection thing? I’ll be honest, if I have written about you, I will have a hard time completely letting go of you. Mostly because I put so much effort into making whatever we had beautiful and Mean Something. And somewhere, deep down, I’ll always hope that you felt the same.
And I have never been one to excel at being a Friend With Benefit. Why? I have narrowed it down to this: I love my friends. I want to tell them everything. I want to send them 15 texts in a row. I want to talk about what we’ve learned in therapy. I want to talk about what they’ve learned in therapy.
So, one of the cruelest things you can do to my heart is to connect with me on both an emotional and physical level, and then not fall in love with me. How dare you.
Please, just do the most humane thing and ghost me the next day. Maybe even block me on IG.
Wednesday’s Catastrophic Wake Up Call
Let me say this, Wednesday morning was just full of potential to be the most beautiful day. I met a friend for a 7:30 cappuccino. We had the Roman streets to ourselves. We went to the flower market, the florist pulled out all of his inventory for us. I bought pink roses. We had another coffee. I had a prosciutto and fig panino. Does life get any better? I didn’t think so.
Well, I decided to test fate. I got dressed up. Threw on my boyfriend blazer and favourite Zara denim shorts, hightop Stan Smiths, and our beloved Fendi crossbody. Wednesdays are for dirty martinis. We’re riding high, we’re glowing, we want to start a little commotion for ourselves and visit our old FWB.
And what do you do when all of the planets are in retrograde and you come face to face with your old lover’s new lover? Or same lover. Were you the new lover? It’s all too complicated. It’s all troppi cosi. The look in your old lover’s eyes says it all. Embarrassment, fear, regret.
Now, contrary to popular opinion, I am not one to cause a scene in a public establishment. Instead, I do like using the mature tool of Passive Aggression via newsletters, texts, IG stories, etc. etc.
And if I’m being honest, sometimes, our fragile hearts are just not cut out for the monstrosity of the world and the drama of a public meltdown.
So, we channel Jackie Kennedy. Calm, cool, collected, poised. We throw our boyfriend blazer over our shoulders and place a 20 euro bill on the counter. We make our exit to the nearest wine bar for an emergency Pinot Grigio. They’ve run out, and give you the next driest option.
You take a few sips, realize you are nauseous, and also realize you can’t cry behind big sunglasses because it’s 10 PM. So, we fold a napkin and gently dab at our Gucci mascara tears. Ugh, our fragile hearts.
Thursdays Are For Therapy
Thursday afternoon comes, and we are wrapped up in the comforts of our bed, supportive voice notes from friends, and an upcoming therapy session. He has reached out to “fix things for a goodbye”, as you have told him that you are leaving the country immediately. There is no point for a goodbye, because, one of the things we can admire most about our Gemini selves is our ability to run and never look back, once we see the truth.
You cry to your therapist, she tells you she is proud of you for feeling things. She tells you she is proud of you for being vulnerable. That his actions are a reflection of him, and in some way, this summer needed to happen for you to see things more clear.
Sleeping On A Bed Of Nails
What was taught to us about love when we were younger? What was modelled to us? Do we feel safe in chaos and instability, because that was what we were shown? Do we seek out partners who are emotionally unavailable, because one of our parents was also emotionally unavailable? This must be normal, this must be safe, this must be love - we tell ourselves.
But why do we always end up in a wine bar in tears, putting puzzle pieces together, wondering if they ever loved us in the first place? To have everything, to have created everything, but for some reason - we constantly let the wrong people see the best parts of ourselves.
My friend sent me Queen Emrata’s TikTok, where she does that side by side video thing (okay can we take a moment to lol - I never use TikTok and have no idea what any of the correct verbiage to use is) - anyways, the girl in the other video goes “accept the love you think your best friend deserves, because for some reason we hate ourselves”.
And that has really stuck with me.
Friday’s Equinox
We wake up Friday, and head to our favourite cafe. There is nothing like your favourite Forno, a cappuccino, and pain au chocolat as you sit in the 21 degree morning sun. We’re starting to see things more clear, and are making an active choice to stop sleeping on that bed of nails.
A new friend meets you for coffee, and invites you to a photography exhibition and workshop. You go, thinking that it will be a guided tour of the photographer’s work. Instead, it is a workshop where you bring in a photo from your past, and the photographer combines it with your portrait from today. We write letters to the past, to our traumas and to our teachers. Forgiving ourselves for the what we say to our bodies, and what we say to ourselves.
We have the option to burn it or take it home with us. We share why we chose the photos we brought. We learn about other’s families, other’s upbringings, other’s pain and other’s stories.
I speak to why I chose the photo of my mom: “When someone is sick, you can’t get the image of them with tubes and wires out of your head. So I studied that photo of her every night before I went to sleep for months. She’s how I want to remember her there: cool, calm, and effortless.”
I blast my favourite album on my walk home. Feeling lighter. Feeling more mature. Feeling more effortless. The memories of Wednesday evening are trailing behind me, and I believe are having a hard time catching up.
The Coolest Girl In The World
10 PM comes, and I get ready to meet an old friend who is visiting from Toronto. I tell him the best plans are having no plans, and he agrees. We walk around the area, stopping at corner bars for Perroni’s and cigarettes. Before debating on scootering home, we find a corner ally staircase that’s lit with candles and young Romans drinking spritzes and making out.
We talk life. We talk travels. We talk old relationships.
I am calm. I am at ease. I am happy. I am grateful.
We finish our spritzes. He walks me home.
“I’ve just always thought you’re the coolest girl in the world” he tells me as I dig around for my keys.
And that my friends, is where I will leave this.
We’re grateful for our cowboy boots, for therapy, for cappuccinos and friends. For morning walks and voice notes. For old photos. For the past. For the present and for the future.
And we’re grateful for the surprise of old friends.
I will talk to you soon, I promise.
Love you, and Happy Sunday.
Emily